Born: 15 May 1689, United Kingdom
Died: 21 August 1762
Country most active: Turkey, United Kingdom
Also known as: Mary Pierrepont
The following is excerpted from Famous Women: An Outline of Feminine Achievement Through the Ages With Life Stories of Five Hundred Noted Women, written by Joseph Adelman, published 1926 by Ellis M Lonow Company.
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762), an English author and letter-writer, eldest daughter of the Duke of Kingston. At the age of twenty-one she translated the Encheiridion of Epictetus. In 1712 she married Edward Wortley Montagu, and on the accession of George I she went to London with her husband. There her beauty and wit attracted unusual attention at court, and she was much admired by the wits, especially by Pope. Her husband being appointed ambassador to the Porte in 1716, she accompanied him to Constantinople. Her letters describing her travels form the best known portion of her correspondence, and their novelty, liveliness and wit gave them an immediate reputation. On their return to England in 1718 the Montagus settled near Pope at Twickenham, and Lady Mary became one of the best-known women in London society. Pope to have made a declaration of love to her which was met with a burst of laughter, and the poet afterward satirized her as Sappho in various verses. In 1739, for unknown reasons, she left England, and lived chiefly in Italy, apart from her family. Lady Mary has another claim to remembrance in her courageous adoption for her own children of the Turkish practice of inoculation for small-pox, and for her energy in promoting its introduction into England, in the face of violent prejudice.
The following is excerpted from Woman: Her Position, Influence and Achievement Throughout the Civilized World, designed and Arranged by William C. King, published in 1900 by The King-Richardson Co. Copyright 1903 The King-Richardson Co.
Brilliant social leader and wit
Mary Wortley Montagu, born about 1690 at Thoresby, Nottinghamshire, England, was the eldest daughter of Evelyn Pierrepont, Duke of Kingston, and Lady Mary Fielding. She was a clever, attractive child, the pride and delight of her father, who, having lost his wife in 1694, and continuing a widower, introduced his daughter to society, and made her preside at his table at a very early age.
In 1712 she married, without the consent of her father, Edward Wortley Montagu, eldest son of Hon. Sydney Montagu. For more than three years after her marriage, she lived near Sheffield, where her son was born, her husband being kept principally in London during this time by his parliamentary duties. On the accesssion of George I, Mr. Montagu obtained a seat at the Treasury Board, and from this time, Lady Mary lived in London, where she gained a brilliant reputation by her wit and beauty, and was on terms of intimate friendship with Addison, Pope, and other literary men of the day.
In 1716 Mr. Montagu was appointed ambassador to the Porte, and in August of that year he set out for Constantinople, accompanied by his wife. They remained abroad till 1718, and during this time Lady Mary wrote the well known Letters to her sister, Pope, and other friends. The letters give a true description of Eastern life and manners, and are written in a clear, lively style, sparkling with wit and humor. The next twenty years of her life she passed in England.
For reasons which are not well known, in 1739, she left England and her husband, from whom, however, she parted on very good terms, though they never met again. She lived in Italy, first on the shores of the lake of Iseo, and afterwards at Venice, till 1761, when at the request of her daughter, the Countess of Bute, she returned to England. She died August 21, 1762.
The following is excerpted from “400 Outstanding Women of the World and the Costumology of Their Time” by Minna Moscherosch Schmidt, published in 1933.
Writer of Letters, Lady Mary was the eldest daughter of Evelyn Pierrpont, first Marquis of Dorchester, and Duke of Kingston. Her mother, who died in 1694, was the daughter of the Earl of Denbigh. Lady Mary showed early abilities and became a great reader, devouring the old romances and dramas, besides more solid literature. She became the friend of Mary Astell, the defender of women’s rights, who in 1724 wrote a preface to Lady Mary’s Letters from the Last. Another friend was Anne, the daughter of Sidney Wortley Montagu, first Earl of Sandwich. Edward Wortley Montagu, his son, a man of ability and a good scholar, represented Huntingdon in the House of Commons from 1705-1713. He met Lady Mary in his sister’s company and soon became her avowed suitor. Edward Wortley Montagu was rejected by Mary’s father and she was ordered to marry another man. Settlements were drawn and the wedding day fixed, when Lady Mary left the house and married Montagu privately by special license in 1712. Her husband was often separated from her by his parliamentary duties, and her Letters show occasional discords. Upon the formation of the first ministry of George I in 1714, Montagu became one of the commissioners of the Treasury. Lady Mary was often in Court and was in favour with the Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline. In June, 1716, Montagu was appointed Ambassador to the Porte. He and his wife left London in July and reached Vienna in September after visiting the German Courts. They left Vienna in 1717, travelling to Adrianapole where they stayed for two months, reaching Constantinople at the end of May. They remained in Constantinople until June, 1718, when they returned to England. At Adrianapole Lady Mary introduced the practice of inoculation against small-pox and she took much pains to introduce the practice upon her return to England. For many years after her return to London, Lady Mary was a leader in London society. Her Letters show that she was a keen observer of everything that went on. Her husband again represented Huntingdon in Parliament from 1722-34, and afterwards sat for Peterborough from 1734-61. In 1739 Lady Mary again went abroad and travelled to Venice and Florence, where she met Horace Walpole. She visited Rome and Naples, and also Geneva and Chambery. In 1742 she settled at Avignon, afterwards moving to Brescia. During the years she was abroad she corresponded with the members of her family, giving them her impressions of Italian society and the books which she read. On the death of her husband Lady Mary returned to England, where she died in 1762.
The following is excerpted from the Dictionary of National Biography, originally published between 1885 and 1900, by Smith, Elder & Co. It was written by Leslie Stephen.
MONTAGU, Lady MARY WORTLEY (1689–1762), writer of ‘Letters,’ baptised at Covent Garden, 26 May 1689, was the eldest daughter of Evelyn Pierrepont, who in 1690 became fifth Earl of Kingston (created Marquis of Dorchester in 1706, and Duke of Kingston in 1715), by Mary, daughter of William Feilding, earl of Denbigh. Her mother died in 1694, leaving three other children: William, Frances (afterwards Countess of Mar), and Evelyn (afterwards Countess of Gower). Mary showed early abilities, and, according to one account, her father had her taught Greek and Latin by her brother’s tutor. The Greek, however, is doubtful, and it seems probable that she taught herself Latin (Spence, Anecdotes, p. 232). Lord Kingston, though a man of pleasure and generally a careless father, was proud of his daughter, and it is said that ‘before she was eight’ he nominated her as a ‘toast’ at the Kit-Cat Club (generally said, however, to have been founded in 1702; see under Cat, Christopher). As she was not known to the members, he sent for her to the club, when she was elected by acclamation. She always declared afterwards that this was the happiest day of her life. She became an eager reader, devouring the old romances and the old dramatists, besides more solid literature. She was encouraged by an uncle, William Feilding, and by Bishop Burnet. She submitted to Burnet in 1710 a translation of the ‘Encheiridion’ of Epictetus from the Latin version (printed in Lord Wharncliffe’s edition of her ‘Works,’ i. 225). She became a friend of Mary Astell [q. v.], the defender of woman’s rights in her day, who in 1724 wrote a preface to Lady Mary’s ‘Letters from the East’ (first published with the ‘Letters’ in 1763). Another friend was Anne, daughter of Sidney Wortley Montagu, second son of Edward, first earl of Sandwich [q. v.], who had taken the name of Wortley on his marriage to Anne, daughter of Sir Francis Wortley. Lady Mary was writing enthusiastically about her studies and state of mind to her friend in 1709. Edward Wortley Montagu, brother of Anne, was a man of ability, a good scholar, well known to the whig leaders, and especially attached to Addison. The second volume of the ‘Tatler’ is dedicated to him. He represented Huntingdon in the House of Commons from 1705 to 1713. He met Lady Mary in his sister’s company, was delighted with her knowledge of Latin, as well as with her wit and beauty, sent her at once a copy of verses, wrote letters of warm compliment to be copied and sent to her in his sister’s name, and soon became an avowed suitor. His sister died soon after the acquaintance had been formed. A long correspondence followed. Lady Mary’s ‘Letters’ are remarkably well written, and show masculine sense rather than tenderness. She says that she can be a friend, but does not know whether she can love. She probably felt a real passion, although she makes it a point of honour to state fairly every objection to the match. Montagu applied to Lady Mary’s father, then Lord Dorchester, but he was finally rejected, upon his refusal to entail his estates upon his eldest son, or to promise his wife a fixed establishment in London. Montagu (see Moy Thomas) gave notes for No. 223 of the ‘Tatler’ (12 Sept. 1710), which attacks the practice of marriage settlements. The father hereupon ordered Lady Mary to marry another man. Settlements were drawn, and the wedding-day fixed, when Lady Mary left the house and married Montagu privately by special license, dated 12 Aug. 1712. She lived for the next few years in different houses, generally in Yorkshire, her husband’s father still occupying Wharncliffe Lodge, near Sheffield. Her husband was often separated from her by his parliamentary duties, and her ‘Letters’ show occasional discords. Her son, Edward Wortley Montagu (who is separately noticed), was born in 1713. In the same year her sister Frances married John Erskine, sixth or eleventh earl of Mar [q. v.] Her brother, Lord Kingston, died soon afterwards, leaving a son, who became the sixth and last duke. Upon the formation of the first ministry of George I (October 1714), Montagu became one of the commissioners of the treasury, his cousin Charles, lord Halifax [q. v.], being first lord Montagu, it is said, was the only man at the board who could talk French, and who could therefore converse with the king. When after the death of Halifax in 1715 Walpole became first lord, Montagu lost his place, and his remarks on the ‘state of party’ (published in Lady Mary’s ‘Works’) show that he had a strong dislike to Walpole. Lady Mary was often at court, and was in favour with the Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline. ‘Dolly’ Walpole, Sir Robert’s sister, afterwards Lady Townshend, had been an early friend, but Sir Robert’s wife was her decided enemy. She became well known to all the wits, and among others to Pope, who professed especial admiration for her. Upon the surreptitious publication of her ‘Court Poems'(afterwards called ‘ Town Eclogues’) in 1716, Pope revenged her or himself by administering an emetic to Curll [see under Curll, Edmund]. On 5 June 1716 Montagu was appointed ambassador to the Porte, then at war with Austria. The embassy was intended to reconcile the Turks and the emperor. Montagu left London with his wife and their child at the end of July. They reached Vienna at the beginning of September, and, after visiting other German courts, left Vienna on 17 Jan. 1717, and travelled to Adrianople, where they stayed for two months, reaching Constantinople at the end of May. On 28 Oct. following Montagu received letters of recall, with a private letter from Addison,who had now become secretary of state. Addison’s endeavours to assign complimentary reasons for the recall imply a consciousness that Montagu would scarcely see the measure in that light. Montagu was not, as Addison suggested, anxious to return to England, for he remained at Constantinople till 6 June 1718. His daughter Mary (afterwards Lady Bute) was born in February 1718. The Montagus returned by sea to Genoa, and reached England at the end of October. Montagu collected some oriental manuscripts, and presented an inscribed marble to Trinity College, Cambridge. Lady Mary’s interest in the manners of the country is shown by her ‘Letters,’ and she learnt a little Turkish. At Adrianople she had noticed the practice of inoculation for the small-pox (see letter of 1 April 1717). She had her son inoculated, and took much pains to introduce the practice upon her return to England. The physician of the embassy, a Mr. Maitland, inoculated in London under her patronage, and in 1724 Steele celebrated her merits in a paper in the ‘Plain Dealer,’ 3 July ( Gent. Mag. xxvii. 409; Phil. Trans. 1757, No.lxxi.), and congratulated her upon her ‘godlike delight ‘of saving’ many thousand British lives’ every year. For many years after her return to England Lady Mary was a leader in London society. Her ‘Letters’ show that she was not without a keen appetite for the scandal of the times, and she was one of the greatest sufferers by the same propensity in her neighbours. Her husband again represented Huntingdon in the parliaments elected in 1722 and 1727. He afterwards sat for Peterborough from 1734 to 1747, and from 1754 till 1751. He never took any conspicuous part in politics, and devoted himself chiefly to saving money.
Upon returning to England Lady Mary had resumed intercourse with Pope. Pope had celebrated her in the ‘Epistle to Jervas’ (published 1717), and more than one copy of occasional verses (POPE, Works, ed. Elwin and Courthope, iv. 491-3). The thought of her in- spired the ‘Epistle of Eloisato Abelard,’and to her during her journey were addressed letters of the most stilted and fine-spun gallantry. She replied, checking his ecstasies with calm good breeding and sense. On 1 Sept. 1718 Pope wrote to her the well-known letter upon the romantic death of two rustic lovers struck by lightning, to which she replied from Dover (1 Nov.), on her way home, by a bit of cynicism, too true to be pleasant. He continued his adoration, and persuaded her and her husband to take a cottage at Twickenham, in order to be his neighbours. The close relation between the keen woman of the world and the querulous and morbidly sensitive poet was dangerous. The friendship continued for a time. Sir Godfrey Kneller painted her picture for the poet in 1719; his last letter, in September 1721, is in the old style ; and in the spring of 1722 she says in a letter to her sister that she seldom sees him, but encloses some of his verses containing a compliment to her. A quarrel followed, the causes of which have been much discussed. Various stories are given: Miss Hawkins (Anecdotes, p. 75) reported that the quarrel was due to a pair of sheets lent by Pope to the Montagus and returned unwashed. This was confirmed by Worsdale the painter (Life of Malone, p. 150). Lady Mary herself told Spence (Anecdotes, 1820, p. 233) that Pope told Arbuthnot that he had refused to write a satire upon somebody when requested to do so by Lady Mary and Lord Hervey ; Lady Mary implies that this story was false, but speaks as though she did not know the true cause. Mr. Moy Thomas and Dilke think that the quarrel arose out of her ridicule of his story of the lovers killed by lightning. This assumes that the letter to him was not really sent at the date assigned to it, which is possible, but is a mere guess. Mr. Courthope thinks, and with apparent justice, that there is no reason for doubting the account given, according to Lady Louisa Stuart, by Lady Mary herself, that Pope was betrayed into a declaration of love, which Lady Mary received with a fit of laughter. This story is in harmony with all that we know of their relations; and if, as is probable, the declaration was meant to be taken in a poetic sense, the laughter was painfully sincere. The more serious the cause the greater is the excuse for Pope’s subsequent malignity, though no excuse can be more than a slight palliation. A coarse lampoon upon Lady Mary by Swift, ‘The Capon’s Tale,’ first published in the ‘Miscellany’ of 1826, implies that the quarrel had begun, and hints at previous lampoons attributed to her. Pope’s references to ‘Sappho’ are in the ‘Dunciad,’ bk. ii. 1. 136 (1728, and note added in 1729); the ‘Epistle to Lord Bathurst’ (1732), 11. 121-2; the ‘Imitation of the 1st Satire of the 2nd Book of Horace’ (1732-3), 11. 83-4; the ‘Epistle to Martha Blount’ (1734-5), 11. 25-6; the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ (1734-5), 11. 368-9; ‘Versification of Donne’ (1735), i. 6; and the ‘Epilogue to the Satires’ (1738), i. 113, ii, 19. Pope was apparently the aggressor in this warfare, although it seems that he suspected Lady Mary of being concerned in a previous libel called ‘A Pop upon Pope’ (1728), a story of his being whipped in revenge for the ‘Dunciad’ (see Carruthers, Pope, 1857, pp. 258-9, and Pope Works, x. 119). When the atrocious allusion in the ‘Imitations of Horace’ appeared, Lady Mary asked Peterborough to remonstrate with Pope. Pope made the obvious reply that he wondered that Lady Mary should suppose the lines to apply to any but some notoriously abandoned woman. It is of course impossible to prove who was in Pope’s head when he wrote, but he certainly endeavoured to confirm the application to Lady Mary when it was made by the town (see Mr. Courthope’s remarks in Pope’s Works, iii. 279-84). The ‘Verses addressed to an Imitator of Horace by a Lady,’ published in 1733, are generally attributed to Lady Mary, in co-operation with her friend and fellow-victim to Pope’s satire, Lord Hervey (see Courthope in Pope’s Works as above, and v. 259-61). They insult Pope’s family and person with a brutality only exceeded by his own. His base insinuations probably injured Lady Mary’s reputation in her time. Two of the points to which he refers, that she ‘starved a sister’ and ‘denied a debt’ (Epilogue to Satires}, were of importance in her history.
A Frenchman named Rémond (who is described in St.-Simon’s Memoirs, 1829, xvii. 306) made love to her; and, though she did not encourage his passion, she seems to have written some imprudent letters to him. She thought that she would get rid of him handsomely by making some money for him in the South Sea speculation. He gained something by selling out on her advice, but left the money in her hands to be again invested. In one of his last letters (22 Aug. 1720) Pope had advised her to buy at a time when the stock was rapidly declining in value. Whether she lost on her own account does not appear; but the 900l. which she invested for Rémond soon sank in value to 400l. He then claimed the repayment of the original sum as a debt, and threatened to publish her letters. She was certainly alarmed, and especially anxious to keep the matter from her husband, who was severe in all questions of money. Our knowledge of the affair is derived from her letters upon the subject to Lady Mar. Horace Walpole, who saw them, gave a distorted version of their purport to Sir Horace Mann. But in fact, although they show her to have been imprudent, they refute any worse imputation upon her character or her honesty. Rémond appears to have spread reports which must have reached Pope, who knew something of the South Sea speculation. The story about her sister refers to Lady Mar, who was for a time disordered in mind. Her brother-in-law, James Erskine, lord Grange [q. v.], famous for the violent imprisonment of his wife, tried also to get hold of Lady Mar. Lady Mary obtained a warrant from the king’s bench in 1731, and was for some time her sister’s guardian. There does not appear to be any ground for a charge of harsh treatment. Lady Mary was on very friendly terms with Lord Hervey, and on hostile terms with his wife. Her favour was courted by Young, of the ‘Night Thoughts,’ who in 1726 consulted her about his tragedy, ‘The Brothers,’ and by her second cousin, Fielding, who dedicated his first comedy to her in 1727, and asked her to read his ‘Modern Husband.’ She managed to be on good terms with the redoubtable Sarah, duchess of Marlborough; but she seems to have made enemies by her satirical wit. In 1739 she went abroad, for reasons which have not been explained. Her letters to her husband imply that they still remained on friendly terms, and she speaks of him to their daughter with apparent affection. She told a correspondent that he had been detained by business till she was tired of waiting, and went abroad, expecting him to follow in six weeks (to Lady Pomfret, from Venice, n.d., probably in 1740). In any case, they did not again meet. She left England in July 1739, and travelled to Venice. In the autumn of 1740 she went to Florence, where she met Horace Walpole, who gives a disgusting account of her slovenly appearance, her ‘impudence,’ avarice, and absurdity (Walpole, Letters, ed. Cunningham, i. 55, 57). She visited Rome and Naples, and at the end of 1741 crossed the Alps to Geneva and Chambéry. In 1742 she settled at Avignon, where the town gave her a piece of land with an old mill, which she patched up for a house. The ‘increase of Scottish and Irish rebels’ (to the Countess of Oxford, 29 Nov. 1747) in 1746 made the place unpleasant to her, and she moved to Brescia, where she bought the shell of an old palace, fitted it up, and stayed for some years, spending her summers at Lovere, on the Lago d’Iseo. She thought Lovere ‘the most beautifully romantic place’ she ever saw, and compares it to Tunbridge Wells (to Lady Bute, 21 July 1747). She made occasional excursions elsewhere, and in 1758 settled at Venice. She corresponded with her daughter, Lady Bute, reporting her impressions of Italian society and of the books which she read. She admired Fielding and Smollett, but despised Richardson, though she could not help crying over him. She wished her granddaughters to acquire some learning, but hoped that they would not marry, and that their mother would ‘moderate her fondness’ for them. In the last years of her stay she became intimate with Sir James Denham Steuart [q. v.], who dedicated to her the first two books of his ‘Inquiry into the Principles of Political Economy.’ Lady Mary’s husband died in January 1761, aged 83. Horace Walpole describes him living at Wharncliffe, the seat of the Wortleys, in 1756, in the most miserly fashion, his only indulgence being tokay (Walpole, Letters, in. 29). He was reported to have left 1,350,000l. (ib. iii. 377; and Gray to Wharton, 31 Jan. 1761). Pope (Horace, bk. ii. sat. ii. 11. 49-60) satirised the pair as ‘Avidien and his wife,’ fend Montagu appears to have done little beyond saving money in later years. Walpole rightly prophesied that Lady Mary would return to England.
Her daughter’s husband was now in power (secretary of state 25 March 1761), and Lady Bute begged her mother to come to her. Lady Mary’s health was breaking, but she left Venice in the autumn, and reached England in the beginning of 1762. She died on 21 Aug. following. A cenotaph was erected to her memory in Lichfield Cathedral, commemorating her introduction of inoculation.
Lady Mary had herself suffered from smallpox, which ‘deprived her of very fine eyelashes’ and impaired her beauty. The portrait painted by Kneller in 1719, apparently for Pope, came into the possession of Lord Bute. A portrait painted by Charles della Rusca in 1739, and presented by her to the Countess of Oxford, is at Wortley Hall. A third portrait, by Jonathan Richardson, belongs to the Earl of Wharncliffe, and another of Lady Mary by Highmore is in the possession of T. Humphry Ward, esq. An enamel by Zincke (1738), engraved by Vertue, is at Welbeck. A miniature in possession of Lord Harrington is engraved in the editions of her ‘Works’ by Wharncliffe and Thomas.
Lady Mary’s ‘Town Eclogues’ were first published piratically as ‘Court Poems’ in 1716 (misdated 1706 on title-page). They were republished, with others, by Dodsley in 1747, and again in his ‘Miscellany.’ They were edited by Isaac Reed in 1768, and are included in his ‘Works.’ Lady Mary’s letters from the East were given by her when at Rotterdam in 1761 to a Mr. Sowden, minister of the English church there, with a note by herself, stating that she authorised him to use them as he pleased. He is said to have sold them to her daughter for 500l. Another copy, given by Lady Mary to Mr. Molesworth, also came into possession of Lord Bute. An edition appeared in 1763, in 3 vols. 12mo, as ‘Letters of Lady M——y W———y M———,’ said to have been edited by the disreputable John Cleland [q. v.] A fourth volume appeared in 1767, of doubtful authority, and probably forged by Cleland, though reprinted by later editors. A story is told by Dallaway of a device by which the manuscript of the letters was surreptitiously copied while in Sowden’s possession; but Mr. Moy Thomas says that this edition follows the Molesworth MS., which differs considerably from the other. It is doubtful how far the letters were sent as they now appear, or made out of a diary kept at the time; they were, previous to 1763, handed about in manuscript.
In 1803 an edition of the ‘Works,’ including the above, with other letters and poems, was published by James Dallaway [q. v.], with materials supplied by Lord Bute, and a memoir. A second edition, with letters to Mrs. Hewitt, appeared in 1817. A new edition, in 3 vols. 8vo, edited by Lady Mary’s great-grandson, Lord Wharncliffe, was published in 1837. To this were added the very interesting ‘Introductory Anecdotes’ by Lady Louisa Stuart, Lady Bute’s daughter. The last edition, by Mr. Moy Thomas, in 2 vols. 8vo, with a new life, appeared in 1861. The correspondence with Pope is in Pope’s ‘Works’ (Courthope and Elwin, ix. 339-415).
The following is excerpted from A Cyclopædia of Female Biography, published 1857 by Groomsbridge and Sons and edited by Henry Gardiner Adams.
MONTAGU, LADY MARY WORTLEY, Was the oldest daughter of Evelyn, Duke of Kingston, and Lady Mary Fielding, daughter of the Earl of Denbigh. She was born at Thoresby, in Nottinghamshire, about the year 1690. She early gave such evidence of genius, that her father placed her under the same preceptors as her brother, and she acquired a singular proficiency in classical studies. Brought up in great seclusion, she was enabled to cultivate her mind to a degree rarely seen in women of that period. In 1712 she became the wife of Edward Wortley Montagu, and continued to live in retirement until her husband’s appointment, on the accession of George the First, to a seat in the treasury, which brought her to London. Introduced at court, her wit and beauty called forth universal admiration, and she became familiarly acquainted with Pope, Addison, and other distinguished writers. In 1716, Mr. Wortley was appointed ambassador to the Porte, and Lady Mary accompanied him. Here began that correspondence which has procured her such wide-spread celebrity, and placed her among the first of female writers in our tongue; and here, too, her bold, unprejudiced mind, led her to that important step which has made her one of the greatest benefactors of mankind.
While dwelling at Belgrade, during the summer months Lady Mary observed a singular custom prevalent among the Turks—that of engrafting, or as it is now called, inoculating with variolous matter, to produce a mild form of small-pox, and stay the ravages of that loathsome disease. She examined the process with philosophical curiosity, and becoming convinced of its efficacy, did not hesitate to apply it to her own son, a child of three years old.
On her return home she introduced the art into England, by means of the medical attendant of the embassy; but its expediency being questioned among scientific men, an experiment, by order of the government, was made upon five persons under sentence of death, which proved highly successful.
What an arduous and thankless enterprise Lady Mary’s was, no one, at the present day, can form an idea. She lived in an age obstinately opposed to all innovations and improvements, and she says herself, “That if she had foreseen the vexation, the persecution, and even the obloquy which it brought upon her, she would never have attempted it.” The clamours raised against it were beyond belief. The medical faculty rose up in arms, to a man; the clergy descanted from their pulpits on the impiety of seeking to take events but of the hands of Providence; thus exhibiting more narrowness than the Turks, whose obstinate faith in predestination would nave naturally led them to this conclusion. Lady Mary, however, soon gained many supporters among the enlightened classes, headed by the Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen of George the Second; and truth, as it always does, finally prevailed. She gave much of her time to advice and superintendence in the families where inoculation was adopted, constantly carrying her little daughter with her into the sick room, to prove her security from infection.
The present age, which has benefited so widely by this art and its improvements, can form but a faint estimate of the ravages of that fearful scourge, before the introduction of inoculation, when either a loathsome disease, a painful death, or disfigured features, awaited nearly every being born. This may account, in some measure, for the absence of that active gratitude which services such as hers should have called forth. Had Lady Mary Wortley lived in the days of heathen Greece or Rome, her name would have been enrolled among the deities who have benefited mankind. But in Christian England, her native land, on which she bestowed so dear a blessing, and through it, to all the nations of the earth, what has been her recompense? We read of colossal endowments by the British government, upon great generals; of titles conferred and pensions granted, through several generations, to those who have served their country; of monuments erected by the British people to statesmen, and warriors, and even to weak and vicious princes; but where is the monument to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu? Where is recorded the pension, the dignity, bestowed upon her line, as a sign to future generations that she was a benefactor to the human race, and that her country acknowledged it? In the page of history, and in the annals of medicine, her name must find its place; but there alone is the deed recorded, which beneath every roof in Christendom, from the palace to the pauper’s hut, has carried a blessing!
On her return to England, Lady Mary Wortley took up her residence, at the solicitation of Pope, at Twickenham; but their friendship did not continue long after. Pope, it is asserted, made a violent declaration of love to her, which she treating with ridicule, so offended him that he never forgave her. A paper war ensued between them, little creditable to either party. Lady Mary continued to exercise considerable influence in society till 1739, when her health declining, she resolved to pass the remainder of her days in the milder climate of Italy. She was not accompanied by her husband, which has given rise to many surmises; but as be always corresponded, with her, and gave repeated proofs of his confidence in her, there is no ground for believing that there was any objectionable reason for her conduct. Lady Mary’s correspondence during this period of her life, is marked by the same wit, vivacity, and talents, as that of her earlier years, and is published with her collected writings.
This once brilliant court beauty was now become so indifferent to her personal appearance, that, speaking of her looks, she says, “I know nothing of the matter, as it is now eleven years since I have seen my figure in a glass, and the last reflection I saw there was so disagreeable, that I resolved to spare myself the mortification for the future.”
After an absence of twenty-two years, Lady Mary returned to England, but she did not long survive the removal; she died in less than a year after, at the age of seventy-two. Of her two children, both of whom survived her, one was the eccentric and profligate Edward Wortley Montagu, who was a source of continual unhappiness to her through life; the other became the wife of the Marquis of Bute, a distinguished nobleman, and was the mother of a large family.
Lady Montagu’s letters were first printed, surreptitiously, in 1763. A more complete edition of her works was published, in five volumes, in 1803; and another, edited by her great-grandson, Lord Whamcliffe, with additional letters and information, in 1837. The letters from Constantinople and France have been often reprinted.
The following is excerpted from The Learned Lady in England 1650-1760 by Myra Reynolds, published in 1920.
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762)
No woman of the first half of the eighteenth century had a more active mind or facile pen than Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Although almost none of her work appeared in print in her lifetime, her personality made its own way, and she was early recognized as of note for genius and learned acquirements. It is, therefore, of especial interest to inquire into the particulars of her education, and to find out her status as a woman of letters.
The materials for such an inquiry are fairly abundant, and are mainly: her miscellaneous letters, first published in 1803; a fragmentary autobiographical romance, of which she says “not a sillable” except the names is feigned; and the Introductory Anecdotes by her granddaughter, Lady Louisa Stuart, included in Lady Mary’s Letters and Works brought out by Lord Wharncliffe, her great-grandson, in 1887. The important groups of letters containing personal details are those written to Mr. Montagu from about 1709 till their marriage in 1712, and the very large group to her family and friends, chiefly to Lady Bute, her daughter, during Lady Mary’s stay in Italy from 1739 to 1761.
Lady Mary’s mother died when she was eight, and her father, too much a man of pleasure to trouble himself with the education of girls, gave his three young daughters into the care of “an old governess, who, though perfectly good and pious, wanted a capacity for so great a trust.” In commenting on the evil effects of an ignorant education, Lady Mary said: “My own was the worst in the world, being exactly the same as Clarissa Harlowe’s; her pious Mrs. Norton so perfectly resembling my governess, who had been nurse to my mother. I could almost fancy the author was acquainted with her. She took so much pains from my infancy, to fill my head with superstitious tales and false notions, it was none of her fault I am not at this day afraid of witches and hobgoblins, or turned methodist.” But at least there were no hindering home influences, and Lady Mary had what Charles Lamb would call the luck to be “tumbled early into a closet of good old English books.” Forsaking the dolls of her sisters she took refuge in her father’s fine library and there she read with the absorption of a youthful Coleridge. She “got by heart all the poetry that came in her way,” and she “read every romance as yet invented.” Lady Louisa says she “possessed and left after her, the whole library of Mrs. Lenox’s Female Quixote – Cleopatra, Cassandra, Clelia, Cyrus, Pharamond, Ibrahim, etc., etc. – all, like the lady Arabella’s collection, ‘Englished,’ mostly, ‘by persons of honour.’ The chief favourite appeared to have been a translation of Monsieur Honoré d’Urfé’s Astrea, once the delight of Henri Quatre and his court, and still admired and quoted by the savans who flourished under Louis XIV. In a blank page of this massive volume (which might have counterbalanced a pig of lead of the same size) Lady Mary had written in her fairest youthful hand the names and characteristic qualities of the chief personages thus: – the beautiful Diana, the volatile Climene, the melancholy Doris, Celedon the faithful, Adamas the wise, and so on; forming two long columns.” Among Lady Mary’s earliest attempts at authorship were romantic stories in imitation of these her favorite authors.
But along with her romances, and soon superseding them, were sterner studies. She early began to teach herself Latin. In her account of herself under the name Lætitia, she said:
Her appetite for knowledge increasing with her years, without considering the toilsome task she undertook, she began to learn herself the Latin grammar, and with the help of an uncommon memory and indefatigable labour, made herself so far mistress of that language as to be able to understand almost any author. This extraordinary attachment to study became the theme of public discourse. Her Father, though no scholar himself, was flattered with a pleasure in the progress she made, and this reputation which she did not seek (having no end in view but her own amusement) gave her enviers and consequently enemies among the girls of her own age.
Lady Mary was but fourteen when her “just and knowing” criticism of a play, her knowledge of Latin, and her relish for the classics, excited the wonder and admiration of Mr.Wortley Montagu. He was as amazed “as if he had heard a piece of wax work talk.” But the envy of her girl companions and the liberal praise of Mr. Wortley are not the only proofs that Lady Mary’s shining talents and learned tastes met early recognition. Her uncle, Mr. William Fielding, “perceived her capacity, corresponded with her, and encouraged her pursuit of information.” Bishop Burnet showed himself most friendly, and condescended to direct her studies. Mr. Wortley also kept up a kind of scholarly guidance. Lady Mary said to Spence in Rome in 1741: “When I was young I was a great admirer of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and that was one of the chief reasons that set me upon the thoughts of stealing the Latin language. Mr. Wortley was the only person to whom I communicated my design, and he encouraged me in it. I used to study five or six hours a day for two years in my father’s library; and so got that language, whilst everybody else thought I was reading nothing but novels and romances.” By the time she was twenty Italian had been added to her accomplishments. In an early undated letter to Mrs. Hewet she wrote: “I have begun to learn Italian, and am much mortified I cannot do it of a signor of Monsieur Resingade’s recommendation; but ’tis always the fate of women to obey, and my papa has promised me to a Mr. Cassotti. I am afraid I shall never understand it as well as you do.” By 1710 she was quoting Italian verse, and in the following year she corresponded with Mr. Resingade in Italian. That she was still working under Mr. Cassotti in 1712 is apparent from her request that Mr. Wortley should send one of his letters to her under the care of Mr. Cassotti, her “Italian master.” At this period, or a little later, she also learned French, so that she wrote letters and essays in that language. Her continued devotion to study is shown by a letter from Thoresby to Anne Wortley in 1709: “I am now so much alone, I have leisure to pass whole days in reading.… My study is nothing but dictionaries and grammars. I am trying whether it be possible to learn without a master; I am not certain (and dare hardly hope) I shall make any great progress; but I find the study so diverting. I am not only easy, but pleased with the solitude that indulges it.”
Lady Mary’s diligence resulted in 1710 in a translation of the Latin version of the Enchiridion of Epictetus which she sent to Bishop Burnet with a notable letter. Of the translation she says: “Here is the work of one week of my solitude – by the many faults in it your lordship will easily believe I spent no more time upon it; it was hardly finished when I was obliged to begin my journey, and I had not leisure to write it over again. You have it here without any corrections with all its blots and errors.” Bishop Burnet returned the document with emendations which in the present printed form are given in italics. In spite of the numerous changes suggested as closer to the original, the translation remains as a remarkable production for a self-educated girl of twenty. Even more remarkable as evidencing maturity of thought and command of an admirable English style is the letter, which is of particular significance in connection with the contemporary attitude towards the learned woman:
My sex is usually forbid studies of this nature, and folly reckoned so much our proper sphere, we are sooner pardoned any excesses of that, than the least pretensions to reading or good sense. We are permitted no books but such as tend to the weakening and effeminating of the mind. Our natural defects are every way indulged, and it is looked upon as in a degree criminal to improve our reason, or fancy we have any. We are taught to place all our art in adorning our outward forms, and permitted, without reproach, to carry that custom even to extravagancy, while our minds are entirely neglected, and, by disuse of reflections, filled with nothing but the trifling objects our eyes are daily entertained with. This custom, so long established and industriously upheld, makes it even ridiculous to go out of the common road, and forces one to find as many excuses as if it was a thing altogether criminal not to play the fool in concert with other women of quality, whose birth and leisure only serve to render them the most useless and most worthless part of the creation. There is hardly a character in the world more despicable, or more liable to universal ridicule, than that of a learned woman: those words imply, according to the received sense, a tattling, impertinent, vain, and conceited creature. I believe nobody will deny that learning may have this effect, but it must be a very superficial degree of it. Erasmus was certainly a man of great learning and good sense, and he seems to have my opinion of it when he says, Foemina qui (sic) vere sapit, non videtur sibi sapere; contra, quæ cum nihil sapiat sibi videtur sapere ea demum bis stulta est. The Abbé Bellegarde gives a right reason for women’s talking overmuch: they know nothing, and every outward object strikes their imagination, and produces a multitude of thoughts, which, if they knew more, they would know not worth their thinking of. I am not now arguing for an equality of the two sexes. I do not doubt God and nature have thrown us into an inferior rank; we are a lower part of the creation, we owe obedience and submission to the superior sex, and any woman who suffers her vanity and folly to deny this, rebels against the law of the Creator, and indisputable order of nature: but there is a worse effect than this, which follows the careless education given to women of quality, its being so easy for any man of sense, that finds it either his interest or his pleasure, to corrupt them.
In 1712 Lady Mary married Mr. Wortley Montagu, in 1713 her son was born, and in 1715 she started with her husband on their journey to Turkey. The six years between the Enchiridion and the Embassy present Lady Mary to us in an enviable position. The reputation of her youth was augmented. “The wittiest as well as one of the most beautiful women of her day, she numbered among her admirers the most powerful of the statesmen, and the most brilliant of the littérateurs; while, for a time at least she was a favourite at the rival Courts of the King and the Prince of Wales.” The only literary output of this period is a long, rather stilted and perfunctory criticism of Addison’s Cato which she undertook at her husband’s request, and some Court Poems which she wrote with great zest, in conjunction with Pope and Gay, in pursuance of Gay’s plan to ridicule the pastoral by keeping the form, but making it the vehicle of corrupt court and town life. Of the seven poems so written four were by Lady Mary. In them we come for the first time on her power of combining picturesque detail and caustic comment. Not Gay himself was richer in local color; and Pope and Swift were almost equaled in contemptuous social portraiture.
During the six years before the Embassy Lady Mary’s activities were essentially those of a social leader and the mistress of a household. But all her interests were focused to one point when she found that she could go to Turkey with Mr. Montagu. Travel “is the thing on earth I most wish,” she had written in 1710, and now that her husband was sent as Ambassador to the Porte, her dreams could be realized. She must have been a perfect traveling companion. She had great courage, great endurance; no hardships or dangers daunted her. During the fifteen months of their absence she had her three-year-old son to care for, and her daughter was born while they were in Constantinople, but nothing interfered with her zest for experiences. Each day was a new adventure. Each day her insatiable desire to learn and to know some new thing received some new satisfaction. During the journey she kept a full diary which, though not published till after her death, became known in manuscript soon after her return. Certainly by 1725 she had prepared a copy with an eye to publication. To this manuscript Mary Astell wrote a Preface, signed “M. A.,” and dated 1725. Mary Astell was twenty-two years older than Lady Mary for whom she had a strong personal affection, as well as a very sincere pride in her reputation as a learned woman. The Preface would seem to indicate that Lady Mary’s “enviers” and “enemies” had not decreased since her girlhood days:
In short [says Mary Astell] let her own sex, at least, do her justice; lay aside diabolical Envy, and its brother Malice, with all their accursed company, sly whispering, cruel backbiting, spiteful detraction, and the rest of that hideous crew, which, I hope, are very falsely said to attend the Tea-Table, being more apt to think they attend those public places where virtuous women never come. Let the men malign one another, if they think fit, and strive to pull down merit, when they cannot equal it. Let us be better-natured, than to give way to any unkind or disrespectful thought of so bright an ornament of our sex merely because she has better sense; for I doubt not but our hearts will tell us, that this is the real and unpardonable offense, whatever may be pretended. Let us be better Christians, than to look upon her with an evil eye, only because the Giver of all good gifts has entrusted and adorned her with the most excellent talents. Rather let us freely own the superiority of this sublime genius, as I do in the sincerity of my soul, pleased that a woman triumphs, and proud to follow in her train. Let us offer her the palm which is so justly her due; and if we pretend to any laurels, lay them willingly at her feet.
After Lady Mary’s return to England in 1718 we come upon a long period of quiescence. Domestic affairs, events of social and political life, her friendships and hatreds, her economies and stock speculations, completely occupied her. During the first part of this period she was extravagantly praised. Steele said of her in his essay on Inoculation:
This ornament of her Sex and Country, who ennobles her own Nobility by her Learning, Wit and Virtues, accompanying her consort into Turkey, observed the Benefit of this Practice, with its frequency, even among these obstinate Predestinarians, and brought it over for the service and safety of her native England, where she consecrated its first effects on the persons of her own fine children.
In 1720 Pope wrote
In beauty and wit
No Mortal as yet
To question your empire has dared:
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning
To yield to a lady was hard.
Impertinent schools,
With musty dull rules,
Have reading to females denied;
So Papists refuse
The Bible to use,
Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.
But if the first Eve
Hard doom did receive
When only one apple had she,
What a punishment new
Shall be found out for you,
Who, tasting, have robbed the whole tree.
And in 1727 he wrote in Sandys’ Ghost:
Ye ladies, too, draw forth your pen,
I pray where can the hurt lie?
Since you have brains as well as men,
As witness Lady Wortley.
Before 1724 Dr. Young had sent her his tragedy The Brothers, requesting her criticism. In 1725 Richard Savage dedicated his Miscellanies to her as one through whose elevated and immortal wit England had been honored, and who had firmly established the fact that women have “strength of mind in proportion to their sweetness.” And Henry Fielding, her second cousin, sent her his comedies, “exceedingly anxious” for her opinion of them.
But after 1724 or 1725 the years seem to slip on in an aimless fashion, the only breaks in the monotony coming from the intermittently virulent quarrels with Pope, the religious and medical animosities roused by the inoculation process, family sorrows and family discords, with no literary output to mark any personal achievements. From thirty to fifty should have been harvest years after so brilliant a beginning. But the early promise faded into a middle age disillusioned, unambitious, and rather commonplace. The only writing of any importance was in the correspondence kept up in a desultory fashion with various friends. Such of the letters of this period as have been preserved are so vivid and picturesque, so witty, and so pleasantly caustic in their comment, that we can only regret their small number. Take for instance the following description of a feminine riot in the House of Commons:
At the last warm debate in the House of Lords, it was unanimously resolved there should be no crowd of unnecessary auditors; consequently the fair sex were excluded, and the gallery destined to the sole use of the House of Commons. Notwithstanding which determination, a tribe of dames resolved to show on this occasion that neither men nor laws could resist them. These heroines were Lady Huntington, the Duchess of Queensberry, the Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Westmoreland, Lady Cobham, Lady Charlotte Edwin, Lady Archibald Hamilton, and her daughter, Mrs. Scott, and Mrs. Pendarves, and Lady Frances Saunderson. I am thus particular in their names, since I look upon them to be the boldest asserters, and most resigned sufferers for liberty, I ever read of. They presented themselves at the door at nine o’clock in the morning, where Sir William Saunderson respectfully informed them the Chancellor had made an order against their admittance. The Duchess of Queensberry, as head of the squadron, pished at the ill-breeding of a mere lawyer, and desired him to let them upstairs privately. After some modest refusals, he swore by G— he would not let them in. Her grace, with a noble warmth, answered, by G— they would come in in spite of the Chancellor and the whole House. This being reported, the Peers resolved to starve them out; an order was made that the doors should not be opened till they had raised their siege. These Amazons now showed themselves qualified for the duty even of foot soldiers; they stood there till five in the afternoon, without either sustenance or evacuation, every now and then playing volleys of thumps, kicks, and raps against the door, with so much violence that the speakers in the House were scarce heard. When the Lords were not to be conquered by this, the two duchesses (very well apprised of the use of stratagems in war) commanded a dead silence of half an hour; and the Chancellor, who thought this a certain proof of their absence (the Commons also being very impatient to enter), gave order for the opening of the door; upon which they all rushed in, pushed aside their competitors, and placed themselves in the front rows of the gallery. They stayed there till after eleven, when the House rose; and during the debate gave applause and showed marks of dislike, not only by smiles and winks (which have always been allowed in these cases), but by noisy laughs and apparent contempts; which is supposed the true reason why poor Lord Hervey spoke miserably.
In 1739 Lady Mary drifted, without settled plan, to Italy, and there her self-elected exile lengthened itself insensibly into a habit of absence, so that she did not return to England till 1761, the year before her death. During this period she kept a full journal, and projected other work, but brought nothing to fruition. Her chief occupation was reading. Her voracious appetite for fiction passed over from her girlhood absorption in French romances to the novels crowding the presses of the mid-eighteenth century. The events of her placid life were boxes of books from England, and the novels she read would make an adequate list even for Polly Honeycomb. Lady Orford said she wondered how any one could find pleasure in the books Lady Mary chose. But Lady Mary confessed herself “a rake in reading,” and said, in 1750: “I thank God my taste still continues for the gay part of reading. Wiser people may think it trifling but it serves to sweeten life to me.” In 1752 her daughter sent her Peregrine Pickle (1751), Lady Vane’s Memoirs (1750), The Fortunate Parish Girl (1750), Pompey the Little (1751), Eleanora’s Adventures (1751) and the Life of Mrs. Constantia Philips, as among the interesting new books. In a letter to Lady Bute Lady Mary wrote:
I see in the newspapers the names of the following books: Fortunate Mistress, Accomplished Rake, Mrs. Charke’s Memoirs, Modern Lovers, History of Two Orphans, Memoirs of David Ranger, Miss [Mos]tyn, Dick Hazard, History of a Lady Platonist, Sophia Shakespear, Jasper Banks, Frank Hammond, Sir Andrew Thompson, Van a Clergyman’s Son, Cleanthes and Celimena. I do not doubt at least the greatest part of these are trash, lumber, etc.; however, they will serve to pass away the idle time, if you will be so kind to send them to your most affectionate mother.
And she read English drama from Gammer Gurton’s Needle to Lillo’s George Barnwell, her prime favorite.
During the twenty-two years in Italy Lady Mary was practically alone, but she says time never hung heavy on her hands. She wrote letters constantly, and her interest never flagged in the affairs of England in general and of Lady Bute’s family in particular. As the daughters grew up, Lady Mary wrote often about their education, and we see that the ideas of the letter to Bishop Burnet persist. In 1753 she wrote concerning Lady Mary, the eldest granddaughter, who had shown herself excellent in arithmetic:
Learning, if she has a real taste for it, will not only make her contented, but happy in it. No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting. She will not want new fashions, nor regret the loss of expensive diversions, or variety of company, if she can be amused with an author in her closet. To render this amusement extensive, she should be permitted to learn the languages. I have heard it lamented that boys lose so many years in mere learning of words: this is no objection to a girl, whose time is not so precious: she cannot advance herself in any profession, and has therefore more hours to spare; and as you say her memory is good, she will be very agreeably employed in this way. There are two cautions to be given on this subject: first, not to think herself learned when she can read Latin, or even Greek. Languages are more properly to be called vehicles of learning than learning itself, as may be observed in many schoolmasters, who, though perhaps critics in grammar, are the most ignorant fellows on earth. True knowledge consists in knowing things, not words. I would wish her no further a linguist than to enable her to read books in their originals, that are often corrupted, and always injured by translations. Two hours application every morning will bring this about much sooner than you can imagine, and she will have leisure enough besides to run over the English poetry, which is a more important part of a woman’s education than it is generally supposed.… If she has the same inclination (I should say passion) for learning that I was born with, history, geography, and philosophy will furnish her with materials to pass away cheerfully a longer life than is allotted to mortals. I believe there are few heads capable of making Sir I. Newton’s calculations, but the result of them is not difficult to be understood by a moderate capacity. Do not fear this should make her affect the character of Lady —, of Lady —, or Mrs. —: These women are ridiculous, not because they have learning, but because they have it not. One thinks herself a complete historian, after reading Echard’s Roman History; another a profound philosopher, having got by heart some of Pope’s unintelligible essays; and a third an able divine, on the strength of Whitfield’s sermons: thus you hear them screaming politics and controversy.
In the next letter Lady Mary shows some doubt as to the wisdom of giving advice so outspoken on the subject of learning. She says:
I cannot help writing a sort of apology for my last letter, foreseeing that you will think it wrong, or at least Lord Bute will be extremely shocked at the proposal of a learned education for daughters, which the generality of men believe as great a profanation as the clergy would do if the laity should presume to exercise the functions of the priesthood. I desire you would take notice, I would not have learning enjoined them as a task, but permitted as a pleasure, if their genius leads them naturally to it.
Later in the same letter she says:
There is nothing so like the education of a woman of quality as that of a prince: they are taught to dance, and the exterior part of what is called good breeding, which, if they attain, they are extraordinary creatures in their kind, and have all the accomplishments required by their directors. The same characters are formed by the same lessons, which inclines me to think (if I dare say it) that nature has not placed us in an inferior rank to men, no more than the females of other animals, where we see no distinction of capacity; though, I am persuaded, if there was a commonwealth of rational horses (as Doctor Swift has supposed), it would be an established maxim among them, that a mare could not be taught to pace.
In October of the same year she wrote further on the subject of the learned woman:
I confess I have often been complimented, since I have been in Italy, on the books I have given the public. I used at first to deny it with some warmth; but, finding I persuaded nobody, I have of late contented myself with laughing whenever I heard it mentioned, knowing the character of a learned woman is far from being ridiculous in this country, the greatest families being proud of having produced female writers; and a Milanese lady being now professor of mathematics in the University of Bologna, invited thither by a most obliging letter, wrote by the present Pope, who desired her to accept of the chair, not as a recompense for her merit, but to do honor to a town which is under his protection. To say truth, there is no part of the world where our sex is treated with so much contempt as in England. I do not complain of men for having engrossed the government: in excluding us from all degrees of power, they preserve us from many fatigues, many dangers, and perhaps many crimes. The small proportion of authority that has fallen to my share (only over a few children and servants) always has been a burden and never a pleasure, and I believe every one finds it so who acts from a maxim (I think an indispensable duty), that whoever is under my power is under my protection. Those who find a joy in inflicting hardships and seeing objects of misery, may have other sensations; but I have always thought corrections, even when necessary, as painful to the giver as to the sufferer, and am therefore very well satisfied with the state of subjection we are placed in: but I think it the highest injustice to be debarred the entertainment of my closet, and that the same studies which raise the character of a man should hurt that of a woman. We are educated in the grossest ignorance, and no art omitted to stifle our natural reason; if some few get above their nurse’s instructions, our knowledge must rest concealed, and be as useless to the world as gold in a mine. I am speaking now according to our English notions, which may wear out, some ages hence, along with others equally absurd.
Lady Montagu died in London in 1762. Her Turkish Letters were published the next year. Her miscellaneous correspondence came out in 1807. Nor was her real significance apparent until both publications were accessible. It was then at once recognized that no English letter-writer had surpassed Lady Mary in brilliancy and wit. Her eye was so quick and accurate that no interesting details of dress or manner escaped her. As a chronicler and critic of social faults and foibles she was cool, keen, merciless. She was graphic in phrase, homely and direct in figures of speech, racy and idiomatic. The whole tone of her writing was free, lively, energetic, and she could make any topic entertaining. As a person there seems to be ground for two opposite opinions concerning Lady Mary. People admired her and praised her, or they hated her and told scandalous stories about her. But as a writer there could be but one opinion. She was not the first woman of letters to be eulogized, but she was the first woman, not in fiction or drama, whose writings every one wished to read.